Homestead
by Big J Bonk
Summary: Sequel to Ex Machina. After defeating Gray Mann, the mercenaries of RED and BLU have earned a one-year break before they must go back to their own war. For that time, Mal is allowed to stay with Engineer in Bee Caves. As he learns, a quiet life in the house is quite different from the chaos on the battlefield. However, that doesn't mean that things will be easy for him.
1. Welcome Home

**Hey guys, welcome to the sequel to Ex Machina! I know it's been a while, but I'll be honest, I haven't been wanting to write the first few chapters (as I type this, I only have about a paragraph of chapter 2 done, and it's been sitting for over a month). Naturally, I have some planned moments that I would love to write, but I just dread having to get to that point because I'm writing in something I would almost never read myself: an important female OC that has an established relationship with an existing character. But I do want to write the story! So I want you to tell me honestly. Do you guys even want the story? I'll definitely write it if you want to read it, but if you don't, be honest with me. I don't want to write a story that no one will enjoy.**

 **So, as established, this is the sequel to Ex Machina. This story will make absolutely no sense if you don't read that first. It needs a rewrite at some point, but I still think it's better than this (so far) is. Also, this chapter is probably at least four months old, so please excuse any poor writing.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own TF2 because Valve does. Heck, can I even get sued for writing this? I mean, I don't make any money off of my fics, so...**

* * *

Wherever it was that the Teleporter dropped Mal off at, it was very, very bright.

The Scoutbot recoiled when he realized that his new environment was brighter than his old one, and he had to dim his eyes until they were able to auto-adjust. Once they did, he saw that he was beside a rather large building, and despite being nowhere near a door or window, he could hear the urgent commotion of hundreds of people inside. Overhead flew several odd-looking vehicles, ones loud enough for Mal to decide almost immediately that he didn't like them. He looked up to a particularly noisy one, and had to avert his gaze when he saw the sun. No wonder it was so bright. He didn't think he'd ever seen such a clear sky.

"Over here, Mal," called Engineer, peeking out from behind the building and waving the Scoutbot over. "My truck's parked back here."

"Tr... uck?" Mal asked. "What's truck?" When he rounded the corner, he noticed that the Texan had at some point before his arrival changed into a new set of clothes: a shirt and set of overalls. He still had his glove, but no insignia or even a helmet. The robot also took note of the rusting vehicle behind the man. "Oh. Truck is like car?"

"More or less," Engineer replied, hopping in on the driver's side. "I know she don't look like much, but I promise she drives smooth. Hop in." Mal had to take a moment to figure out the handle, but once he did, he got in on the passenger side. When he saw Engineer put on his seatbelt, he did the same, even though it took him a few tries. Once certain that he was properly buckled, Engineer turned the ignition. The truck rumbled to life, and Mal pressed himself deeper into the seat.

"Don't worry, that's just how it's s'posed to sound," Engineer assured him. Mal seemed a little less apprehensive, but he didn't straighten up. Instead, he decided to fiddle with the window knob, completely enthralled with the way it made the window slide up and down. Engineer had to suppress a chuckle. "Hope that can keep ya busy for the next few hours. We've got quite a drive ahead of us."

"Yeah," Mal replied absently, sticking his head out of the open window. When the truck started rolling, he pulled it back in, startled, only to stick it out again a few minutes later. Evidently he liked the window.

Mal was entranced by the sights from the road. There were so many things he had never seen before; Engineer had never heard him ask so many questions in rapid succession. "What's dat?" That's the radio. "What's dat?" A traffic light. "And dat?" A restaurant. They serve food there. "Woah... Hey, what's dat?" That there's grass. "Grass. Grass grows?" It sure does. "But... grass not grows." Well, it doesn't happen all at once.

The conversation made for an interesting trip, at least.

Eventually, Mal ran out of questions to ask, so he spent his time with his head sticking out of the window like some sort of large, metal dog. He was amazed at how quickly their path went from fields to cluttered buildings to shady forests and back again, and he found the people in the cars they passed by quite interesting, too. Mal only had about twenty-five people in his files. It was amazing that so many other people existed, and that none of them looked a thing like each other.

Soon, they turned down a road leading to another forest, with the occasional house peeking out from between the trees here and there. People could be seen doing anything from picking berries to playing games to even just walking, and a few were riding on huge creatures in all sorts of different colors.

"Woah, woah!" Mal exclaimed, pointing furiously. "Look at dose! Dose things, what _are_ dose?!"

"Those are horses," Engineer replied lightly, slowing down so as not to startle the animals. "They're a pretty common sight around here, it ain't unusual to see some riders every once in a while. I used to enjoy it when I was a kid."

"Yeah?" Mal looked between him and the horses. "Den I wanna do dat. Can I?"

"Hmm, maybe one of these days. Gotta find one big enough to hold ya first."

"Sweet."

Engineer turned down yet another road, this one much narrower and giving way to dirt. They followed the path for a few more minutes before the trees opened up to a moderately large field. The path ended at a tan single-story house, with a big shed to one side and the forest to the other. There were a few more houses beyond, but they were far enough away to give this one adequate privacy.

"Here we are," Engineer announced. "Home sweet home."

Mal wanted nothing more than to hop out of the truck, run off, and find one of those horses, but noticing that Engineer had yet to unbuckle his seatbelt, he stayed in his seat. Sure enough, the Texan turned to address him. "Now before we head inside, we need to discuss a few things. My wife is in that house, and it'd be in your best interest to be nice to her, even if it turns out ya don't like her. But I get the feelin' ya will. Her name's Melissa."

"Mal-is-a? No, mmm... Melissa." Mal tested out the name and found it relatively easy to pronounce.

"That's right. And I know ya like to call me Hardhat, but around here my name's Jeffrey. Or Jeff, if ya like."

"Jeff." That name came quickly to him, too. Probably the name of one of Scout's brothers. "But I like Hardhat."

"Alright," Engineer conceded, "but not around the missus. And that brings us to another point. She don't know that I'm a mercenary. For all she knows, I work at a renowned repair shop out of state. So you are not in any way to tell her what it is I actually do. Understood?" Mal beeped, then nodded. "As for everythin' else, you're allowed to go where ya like, but stay where you can see the house, and the bedroom is off-limits. You can go in the shed, but ask me first. Finally, ya need to respect what Melissa tells ya, 'cause she's just as in-charge here as I am. Listen to her like ya would me, if not more. If I say yes to somethin' and she says no, then it's a no. Got it?"

Mal took a moment to process the instruction, then nodded once more.

Engineer smiled. "Well, then, let's go in and meet her. But I'd best go first and introduce ya." Mal nodded in understanding, and Engineer- Jeffrey- hopped out of the truck, gesturing for the robot to stay put. The Texan approached the front door and, figuring it would be less startling than opening the door himself, knocked three times. After a few moments, the door opened, revealing a slightly chubby woman that was just barely taller than Jeff, her brown hair in a medium-length bob and her knees covered in grass stains. She put her hands to her mouth, weeping, then pulled her husband into a tight hug. Then she held him at arms-length, shouting something that Mal couldn't make out. Jeff said something else he couldn't hear, and Melissa appeared to calm down, replying and planting a quick kiss on his cheek.

Mal had no idea what just happened.

After that, Jeff said a few more things to his wife, and then he turned around, waving Mal over. After a moment of nervous hesitation, the robot unbuckled himself and climbed out of the truck, making his way up the path to the house. The second Melissa saw him, her face fell, and she looked at Jeff, stunned. "Oh, Jeff, you didn't..."

Mal bowed his head; he'd just left the truck, and already he'd somehow managed to make a bad impression. Jeff, at least, seemed to understand. "Oh, I promise it's nothin' like that, pumpkin. He's a lil' side project I was workin' on when I didn't have a car to fix. His name's Malakai, but he also goes by Mal."

"Malakai..." tried Melissa, not quite sure what to make of the robot before her. Finally, she settled on an uneasy smile. "Well, it's nice to meet ya, Malakai. My name's Melissa."

Mal did dare to look up then, and he cautiously stuck out a hand. "Melissa. Nice to meetcha."

"Oh," Melissa gasped, taking the offered hand. "Well-mannered, isn't... he?"

"He sure is," Jeff agreed, relieved that his wife seemed to like Mal well enough. "How about we show him around, get him acquainted?"

"Of course," Melissa said, nodding and stepping aside. "Come in, come in."

The house was larger on the inside than Mal would have thought. The front door opened up to a living room with two chairs and a small television set. To the right was the door to the garage, filled to the brim with tools for any situation from engineering to yardwork to carpentry. To the left of the living room was a hallway with pictures hung everywhere of the two, as well as other people Mal didn't know. The left side housed the bathroom and master bedroom, while the right led to a combination dining room and kitchen, small yet somehow more than able to hold the fridge, oven, sink, counters, cupboards, and table within.

"You'll have to share that with Mal," Jeff joked, pointing at the oven. "He loves to cook."

The room Mal would be staying in was at the very end of the hall. At the moment, it was completely bare, the walls white rather than the beiges, yellows, and maroons found throughout the rest of the house. Jeff and Melissa found a few things to put into it, though, namely a chair, lamp, and a few small shelves. They could always put more in later, if Mal wanted, but at the moment he was more fascinated with the carpet.

"...How long will ya be stayin' this time?" Melissa asked her husband.

"Believe it or not, I have the whole year off," Jeff replied, giving her a quick peck on the lips. "Y'know, I'm starvin'. Ya think you could go get the barbecue started? I'll be there to whip somethin' up in a minute."

Melissa smiled at him. "Of course." She walked off, heading for the backyard.

Mal heard the screen door shut and looked up from his spot on the floor. Engineer gave him a warm smile.

"Welcome home, Mal."

* * *

 **So, let me start by saying I've never even been to Texas, let alone Homestead. All I know is that it's in Bee Caves, has trees, and has a lot of horses. Anything else and the Internet wanted me to register as a resident to learn more. I want to try to get at least one more chapter up, and it would be a huge help if you guys could share some Homestead info, events and landmarks and things like that. I'll be sure to credit you if I do a chapter on it! If you want, anyway.**

 **Seriously guys. PLEASE take the time to tell me what you think. I don't want empty compliments; I want absolute brutal honesty. I really need to know if you guys like this or not, as it will save time for me as well as you guys. I don't want you reading a story you don't like. Obviously you don't have to comment, but it would be a great help if you did. :)**

 **So, here's hoping there's a chapter two!**


	2. Family Meal

**Wow, this took me WAY too long to write. Sorry! I have several reasons, but I'll just name the big ones. Writer's block, too much busy homework, and KiriBaku being awesome and distracting. But eyy, I'll still be busy for a while, but at least chapters should be coming along faster now that I have the hard parts out of the way. Note that I said should, not will.**

 **I want to clear up a bit of confusion. First, yes, Engineer's confirmed name is Dell. However, in my universe, the mercenaries are similar but separate people. Since the BLU Engineer is Dell, if I remember right, the RED one needed a name, so Jeffrey. Second, all confirmed birth places actually exist. For example, Boston, Rottenburg, and Bee Caves. Even some maps, while fictional, take place in real locations. I've looked, and Homestead is a real neighborhood in Bee Caves. I just know next to nothing about it.**

 **This chapter is shorter than the last one was, and many chapters will probably continue to be. Other chapters might end up being enormous, it all depends on the subject of the chapter.**

 **Now I'll leave you guys be. Enjoy!**

* * *

Some time later, Jeff was bringing two plates of sizzling hot cheeseburgers, piled high with all sorts of toppings. Melissa brought in a bowl of freshly-tossed salad, placing it at the center of the table. Mal, ever the helper, was rummaging through drawers trying to find silverware for everyone. Once everything was set, Jeff and Melissa sat down, Melissa saying quick grace. There were only two chairs, but Mal didn't mind sitting on the floor.

It wasn't until a couple minutes later that Melissa spoke. "So, an entire year. What's the occasion?"

Jeff glanced up from his burger, swallowing his bite before answering. "The company had a huge success recently. We made such a profit, the boss thought that she could afford a few of us a break."

"I see." Melissa didn't ask about the "huge success," and Jeff didn't offer. She looked to the side. "What's with the robot? Malakai? A side project, you said?" The robot in question looked up.

"Yeah, worked on him bit by bit between shifts," Jeff replied easily. "Let me tell ya, it wasn't easy. Even I'm not entirely sure how he works."

"'Cause Jeff is smart," Mal answered for him, earning a chuckle from the Texan.

"I don't recognize the accent," Melissa noted. "Where'd he get that from?"

"That would be one of my coworkers," said Jeff, reaching over to scoop himself some salad. "His name's Jeremy, and he comes from Boston. He's the one I based Mal's design off of, actually, so it's only fittin' that he take after him so much."

"So he wasn't programmed to sound like that or somethin'?" Melissa asked.

"No," Jeff replied. "At first, he couldn't talk at all. He has to record the sounds first, ya see. He's figured out how to mix up what he hears to say new words, but there's still a lot he can't say. He's got a gesture to let us know." He tapped his own throat to demonstrate.

"...So there was no special reason for buildin' him?" Melissa asked slowly.

Jeff laughed, then. The sound was tight and uneasy, a little out of place. "No, I didn't have a reason in mind. Just a hobby." Melissa smiled and nodded, the corners of her mouth stretched just a little too far, and returned to her meal. Mal was left puzzling at the odd silence for the rest of lunch.

As Jeff was rinsing off his plate, he had to force back a powerful yawn. Melissa still noticed. "Tired already? Honey, it's barely two."

"I know," Jeff replied. "We've just had some odd hours lately. I'll survive."

After the dishes were done, Melissa retired to her room to catch up on a book she was reading. Jeff decided to show Mal how the TV worked.

"This turns the TV in and off," he said, pointing to a small button. "This changes the channel if ya don't like what's on, and this knob makes it louder and quieter. If the screen gets fuzzy, just move the antennae around, but be careful not to bend them."

Jeff stepped aside and allowed Mal to give it a try. The Scoutbot pressed the power button, watching intently as the screen gradually brightened up to a cooking show. Humming, he slowly turned the knob until he paused at some black-and-white cartoon. After a few seconds, he shook his head, blinking rapidly before going back to the cooking channel, where he scooted back and settled down.

"Would've thought you'd go for the cartoons for sure," Jeff commented with a gentle laugh. "Though I s'pose it figures you'd like the cookin' shows. Watch enough of these, and maybe _you'll_ be cookin' the meals around here." Mal showed no signs of having heard the joke, still transfixed on the television set.

"...Okay, I can already see that we're gonna have to limit your screen time." Jeff stepped slightly on front of Mal to block his view and make sure he was listening. "See that clock on the wall? When the big hand is on the four, the TV goes off, alright?"

Mal looked up at the clock, dimming his eyes as he took note of the numbers. After a moment, he turned to Jeff and said, "I don't know how. One, two, three, dat's it, but I can not see. What's four?"

The Texan pursed his lips in thought. "Can't read, huh? Well, see how it's a lil' past the two now? Go two more numbers down. That's four. Got it?" He waited for Mal to nod. "First thing tomorrow, you're learnin' numbers and letters. I get the feelin' you'll pick it up pretty quick."

"Alright," Mal said, eyes briefly lighting up in a sort-of smile before turning back to the screen to watch some obnoxious woman assemble a casserole. Jeff smiled, affectionately shaking his head as he opted to join his wife with an enormous book of his own.

Mal got scolded for watching the TV until almost seven.

* * *

 **Yep, it's official: Mal doesn't like cartoons. Any guesses why? (I'll tell you in chapter 3's author's note, but you're free to guess before then.)**

 **These past couple of chapters were just to get the characters all settled in. Now that it's out of the way, the hope is that chapters will be coming in faster. And I apologize for this one being so short. Adding anything else would have just seemed weird to me.**

 **I have certain events I have planned for this, but I want to space them out. So if you want, feel free to tell me what kind of situations you want to see Mal and the rest in! I'll probably include them in the order that I receive them, but that depends on what's requested. If it helps, right now it's around February or March of 1973.**

 **I haven't written chapter 3 yet, but if you guys just want Mal to learn the alphabet or something, I'll write that. If not, I'll write about whatever you guys want first.**

 **See you guys pretty soon!**


	3. Children's Literature

**I'M NOT DEAD, Y'ALL!**

 **SO sorry about how long it took me to update (half a year!). I could tell you why, but you're probably sick of excuses, so I'll summarize. Real life happened (is still happening, and will probably continue to happen) and kept me really busy, leaving me with little time to write and low motivation when I did. Homestead will still update slowly, but I'll try to keep the wait less than five months. I promise, however long this takes, as long as I haven't marked the story complete, it isn't dead.**

 **As promised, here's the reason Mal doesn't like cartoons: he can barely see them. If you were to pause on a frame, he might register a human face given time, but the way cartoon characters move isn't consistent with the way things move in reality. Due to how Mal registers information, he just isn't able to process what he's seeing as it plays in real time. It confuses and disorients him.**

 **This chapter isn't as long as I would like, but at least it's something.**

* * *

Mal was too excited to get much rest. He sat idly in his chair- in his own room!- but there was too much on his mind to be able to power down. This new place had horses, and TV, and a barbecue, and all sorts of people he could never picture but knew had to exist. It was a lot to take in in one day, and Mal was literally buzzing with nervous excitement.

It was because of this that Engineer woke up at nearly six in the morning to Mal digging through the fridge.

"...Mal, what're you doin' up so early?" Engineer slurred, still not entirely awake.

Mal was oblivious to his friend's dismay. "I was lookin' for eggs, but dere's not any. So, I'll make toast?"

Engineer was too tired to note the clarity of the robot's reply. "Mal, it's barely six. That's two more past the four," he added at the Scoutbot's confused silence. "It's far too early to be doin' this. It's still dark outside."

Mal took a moment to look out the window above the kitchen sink, blinked a few times, and looked back at Engineer. "Dere's a little light."

The Texan glanced outside himself, and despite the sprinkle of clouds, sure enough, the sun was just rising, turning only the horizon a light purple-blue. Defeated, he sighed through his nose, knowing he wouldn't be getting back to sleep. "I s'pose it _is_ March... Toast is fine, but try to keep it down. Melissa's still sleepin'."

After directing Mal to the bread and leaving him to find the toaster on his own, Engineer got himself a knife and a jar of homemade jam. Knowing that his toaster was made of stronger stuff than the one at Coal Town, he waited and watched with the Scoutbot, not quite trusting him not to burn the toast.

"...Hardhat," Mal said after the first cycle.

Engineer glanced at him. "Yeah?"

The robot looked at him for a moment, then shook his head, eyes alight. "Nothin'. Just wanna say Hardhat." Engineer couldn't help but smirk at that.

Soon, the toast was ready, so the two talked quietly at the table as Engineer ate. It really was amazing how far Mal's speech had come, even if half of his words sounded arrogant and rude, no thanks to Scout's personality. After the toast was eaten and Engineer's teeth were brushed, he and Mal watched morning television until Melissa woke up about an hour later. Even though it was only a little past seven, the sky was bright as if it were almost noon.

"What're you doin' awake already?" Melissa yawned, getting started on her coffee. "You usually ain't up 'til nine."

"I heard Mal makin' noise in the fridge," Jeff replied, turning the TV off. "He wanted to make us breakfast, but I don't think he's quite used to normal hours yet." Melissa's face pinched at the thought of the foreign robot digging through her kitchen while she slept, but chose not to comment, instead returning to her coffee and making her own breakfast.

"Jeff," Mal said, getting the Texan's attention. "Said you'd show me one two three today."

"I did say that, didn't I," Jeff answered. "Well, I'm gonna have to go into town and buy some books, so you sit tight and wait here with Melissa 'til I'm back, alright?" Mal nodded sluggishly, and Jeff went to look for his truck keys.

"I'm pickin' up some books, sweetie, I'll be back in about twenty minutes," he called into the kitchen, and Melissa looked up from pouring herself bran flakes.

"Honey, what about the-" she started, but Jeff was already out the door and out of earshot. With a resigned sigh, she sat down and took a bite of her bland cereal. Mal decided to busy himself by watching the clock, determined to get a head start even if he couldn't so much as give a name to most of the symbols.

As soon as she was done with her cereal, Melissa got up to finish the rest of her morning routine. That done, she turned on the small radio by the back door, then headed outside to tend to her garden, all without a word.

For a while, Mal was content listening to the music, some sort of classical tune. Pretty soon, though, he got bored of sitting on the floor and decided to see what Melissa was doing. He stood at the door and gazed at the rows and rows of leafy, flowery, and starchy plants, and when he didn't immediately see the O'Connor, he turned the handle and pushed, pleased to see that there were such things as doors he could open himself. Once outside, he found Melissa off to the right, on her knees watering the plants in front of her with a small can.

Now that he knew that she was just dumping out perfectly good water, which wasn't all that interesting, Mal knelt down to look at the plants at his feet. He'd never seen anything like them before; the rounded leaves at the tip were yellow, with purple at the edges and where they met the stem at the middle. Making an "ooh" sound, he gingerly reached forward to touch one.

"Leave the pansies alone!" Melissa suddenly snapped, startling Mal into a standing position. The woman glared at him a moment longer before moving down the row to water the rest of the garden. Once Mal was sure that he wouldn't be scolded for standing too close to the plants- pansies, he now knew- he knelt down to get another look, this time without touching. He didn't know what the pansies were for, but they were quite pretty. Melissa also appeared to be growing white ones and red ones, but Mal decided that the yellow ones were his favorite.

The robot stood once more to explore the rest of the garden, aware that Melissa was watching him like a hawk. Most of the rows were dedicated to plants that seemed to exist just to be colorful; he would later learn that these were called flowers. They came in colors ranging from orange to blue to soft pink, and came in all different sizes. One yellow flower at the end was nearly as tall as he was. At Melissa's end were leafier plants, some of which bore fruits or berries. Out of all of them, Mal only recognized the tomatoes.

So plants could grow food? Mal wondered if he could get an egg plant anywhere. That way they would never run out of eggs.

It felt like no time at all had passed when Mal heard the screen door open and close behind him, as well as the chuckle that followed. "Shoulda known I'd find y'all back here. Mal, we can start whenever you're ready."

With an eager laugh, the robot made his way over, just mindful enough not to stomp on the flowers in his excitement. Melissa glanced at the pair with a tight smile as they made their way inside, opting to stay outside herself. In the living room, Jeff showed Mal two books, both of them comically small and colorful, and ultimately out of place in the hands of the man with eleven Ph.D.s.

"Let's start with numbers," he said, raising one book slightly over the other. "From what I've seen, you'll probably learn this quickest." And he was right; despite several pronunciation issues, within only a handful of minutes Mal was able to count to twenty.

Learning the alphabet, however, proved to be a struggle. It didn't take long for Mal to recognize each letter in order and pronounce them with some degree of accuracy, but the introduction of lowercase letters quickly complicated things. After telling Mal that making a letter smaller didn't make it quieter, Jeff had to explain rules involving proper nouns and sentence structure, being forced to introduce more and more terms and rules until the concept of lettercase became too convoluted for Mal to be able to keep up. Once the twitching and rapid blinking signalling an impending short circuit began, Jeff knew it was time to stop.

"Well, at least we made some progress today," Jeff said, scratching his cheek. "Think you can read the clock now?"

Mal glanced at the clock, quickly replying with, "Nine two."

"It's actually nine ten," Jeff corrected him, "but clock-readin' has its own rules. Still, that's a start." Mal nodded, pleased.

Jeff reached up high and stretched, cracking his back in the process; they had been sitting on the floor for over an hour. Deciding that there was more than enough daylight to burn, the Texan stood up and said, "I've got some projects I'd like to work on, so I'll be in the shed most of the day. If ya need anythin', talk to Melissa or come find me."

Before he could take a step, Mal abruptly stood. "I wanna go too. Can I?"

Jeff smiled. "I s'pose an extra pair of hands wouldn't hurt."

Mal let out a squeal of glee, and the two went out the front door, the robot with a skip in his step.

* * *

 **Well, after a six-month hiatus(?) I would have liked a 30k chapter, but at least I managed to post something, eh?**

 **Disclaimer: I am not a gardener in any sense of the word. I have no idea what kinds of plants could realistically be grown in Texas in March, and after this much time I really don't care. I just know Mal likes flowers.**

 **Here's hoping that next time I don't take half a century. :')**


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